Crying Out for Help
by Tarafina
Summary: "I'm wearing half your winter clothes, so yeah, I think we're friends…" :EvanBerry:


**Title**: Crying Out for Help (Silently)  
><strong>Category<strong>: Glee  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Romance**  
>Ship<strong>: Sam/Rachel  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Prompt<strong>: She brushed the snow off her shoulders. Evanberry, please? by _anonymous_ – **Tumblr**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,056  
><strong>Summary<strong>: "I'm wearing half your winter clothes, so yeah, I think we're friends…"

**_Crying Out for Help (Silently)_**  
>-11-

The walk home was cold and Sam wished, not for the first time, that they had enough money he could get a bus pass… Or the courage to ask one of his friends for a ride home. But his parents were just making enough to pay the rent on their new place and they still had a lot of debt to pay off, so he didn't mention anything when the temperature dropped rapidly. He didn't say anything when he realized he'd grown out of last year's winter jacket or when all the layers he wore did nothing to keep the chill out. He just stuffed his freezing hands, red from the biting wind, into his jeans pockets and kept walking, a little faster now, the snow crunching beneath his boots.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the gleeks. He knew they wouldn't laugh or make fun of him; they'd even bonded since he admitted to them that he'd been living in a motel last year. But outright admitting that even with a roof over his head, he was still broke and couldn't afford even the smallest of necessities, just didn't sit well with him. Sam was raised not to ask for charity; not that it was bad, it just wasn't polite. Even while his parents could only afford one tiny motel room, they held their chins high with pride. So bumming a ride home off Puck or Finn felt like begging for change in his eyes.

It was stupid, he knew that, but every day he ended up doing the same thing. Telling them all he'd see them later before he trudged off into the snow and slush and pretended he could still feel his fingers.

He heard a laugh and his head lifted sharply, eyes darting around. It was soft, musical, and familiar. He spotted her on the other side of the street, daintily walking in her bright red jacket with white mittens and a matching scarf and toque, sporting a wooly ball on the top. She was wearing white tights and a tiny black skirt, which was insane from where he was standing, and pink gumboots with white hearts that reached up to her knees. She was skipping along, hands clasped in front of her, and he couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

She paused momentarily and bent down to pick something up. He squinted his eyes to see what it was and realized it was a shiny penny as she blew on it to get off the dirt before she tucked it away in her pocket. Just then, a breeze kicked up and the trees rustled.

A squeal escaped her as the snow fell from the branches and landed on her head. She made quite the sight, her arms held out and her head ducked a little; he was momentarily reminded of how she looked after she was slusheed. Not letting it get her down though, she blew the clinging snowflakes from her face and gave herself a shake. She brushed the snow off her shoulders, still smiling, and before he knew what he was doing, he had crossed the road, standing just feet from her.

He shifted his feet awkwardly. "Hey!"

Looking up, Rachel's big brown eyes settled on him. "Sam!" she greeted, her grin widening. "Where did you come from?" She looked around like she expected to see a car or some sign of where he'd been before he snuck up on her.

He shrugged. "I see a tutor on Wednesdays, for math… So I was still at school…" He was glad for the cold weather then; it hid the blush on his cheeks. As honest as he'd been with the club about his dyslexia, it still made him feel uncomfortable.

"Has it helped?" she wondered curiously.

He ducked his head a little. "Kind of… My tutor's a junior like me, but she's super smart, and she spends a lot of time texting and I dunno… Sometimes I just feel dumb for asking her to explain things to me…"

Rachel frowned. "Well that's not helpful..." She shook her head. "You should talk to your teacher; see if you can't get somebody else." Her face lit up. "In fact, if you wouldn't mind, _I_ would offer my assistance!"

He stared at her, wide-eyed, not entirely sure if he wanted to dedicate every Wednesday for the foreseeable future to Rachel Berry.

"No pressure!" she reassured, holding her hands up, snow still clinging to the wool of her mittens. "I just thought… Well, I would never make you feel stupid. I don't think you _are _stupid…" She lifted her chin. "Dyslexia doesn't make you any less of a person, Sam… You're very skilled and with the right tutor, I'm sure you'll get a handle on math."

He half-smiled. "Thanks…" He flicked his hair out of his eyes, staring at the ground a long second. "So… Wednesday's are good for you?" Wasn't like he could do better than her, right? And even if Rachel could be kind of intense, he knew she'd really pay attention and help him out when he needed it.

She nodded, stepping closer to him. "I happen to have a very open schedule on Wednesdays… And I would be _honored _to tutor you."

He shifted his feet. "Can't be for free," he told her, setting his mouth firmly. "I'd have to make it up to you."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyes narrowed as she sought an answer to his demand.

He watched her, smiling as he noticed how red the tip of her nose had gotten. Her hair was curling from the moisture in the air and he couldn't stop himself before he'd reached out to brush away the shiny strands stuck to her rosy cheek.

She stared up at him with those big doe eyes of hers and he swallowed tightly. She was so pretty… Snowflakes clung to her long, dark eyelashes and littered her hair. She bit her lip; white teeth denting her bright pink lips. Despite how cold he was, he thought he felt his palms sweating. The familiar clenching in his gut told him he'd just gotten in a little too deep.

The moment was broken when a car suddenly whizzed by. He retracted his hand, raising it to run through his shaggy blond hair.

Her eyes widened and she grabbed his hand back, holding it tight between her mitted hands and rubbing the cold red skin quickly. "Sam! You must be _freezing!_" She lifted their hands and turned his over, cupping it between hers, blowing hot air into his palm before she rubbed heat back into the skin.

"I—I'm fine…" he assured, but didn't pull away.

She stared at him seriously, lips set in a frown. Before he knew what she was doing, she'd taken one of her gloves off and slid it over his hand. It was a pretty snug fit and he was fairly sure he looked totally ridiculous, but she ignored his protests. She unwrapped her scarf and stood on her tiptoes to throw it over his shoulders, tying it off nice and close against his neck. Lastly, she plucked her ridiculous looking toque and put that on him too, readjusting it so the wool flaps covered his ears.

Nodding with approval, she said, "There… That should help a little."

His brows rose high and he looked down at himself in his old, faded plaid jacket and jeans, her pristine white scarf and his one gloved hand. "I look like a hobo…"

She smiled. "A very handsome hobo."

He chuckled under his breath. "Thanks… I think…"

"You're welcome." She moved to his side and then reached out, taking his bare hand in hers and threading their fingers. "Now… Let's discuss your math curriculum," she told him, tugging him along to walk with her. "And what snacks you like, so I can stock up on them for each Wednesday."

He was momentarily distracted by the way her tiny hand fit into his. But catching up, he immediately argued, "You don't have to—"

"Sam," she interrupted, staring up at him with a firm expression. "We're friends, right?"

He blinked. "I'm wearing half your winter clothes, so yeah, I think we're friends…" he answered, grinning.

"Right." She nodded. "Well, as your friend, I'm offering you tutoring, a warm place to spend your Wednesday evenings, and an abundance of food of your choice…" She raised her brows. "I don't expect anything in return except your avid attention on your math homework, a healthy appetite – because I certainly won't be able to eat all the food I'm bound to buy on my lonesome, and that you borrow one of my daddy's old winter jackets…" She raised a finger before he could argue. "It might be a little large on you, and _trust me_, you'll be doing me a favor…" She shook her head. "I love daddy, but that jacket is not age-appropriate for him… He cannot pull of plaid, Sam!"

He stared at her a long moment, realizing they'd been walking that whole time and he was feeling a lot warmer. He wasn't sure if it was from the added coverage she'd given him or because of her company and support. What he did know was that she was offering up everything he needed and was too afraid to ask for. "All right," he agreed slowly. "But if you supply the food, I'm making dinner for us every Wednesday."

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips before finally sighing in defeat. "Fine… But, you _are_ aware I'm a vegan, right?" She stared at him searchingly. "It could mean a lot of restrictions…"

"That's supposed to be like, healthier, right?" He nodded. "I'll do some research."

She smiled. "That would be very nice of you."

He shrugged. "You're offering to do a lot for me, Rachel… I think making dinner's pretty small, y'know?"

Shaking her head, she tugged him to a stop and turned to look at him. "I've practically forced you to let me be your tutor, to wear my very feminine winter accessories and to take my daddy's jacket… And you've been a very good sport." She licked her lips and blew out a sigh. "I know I'm abrasive and you might feel cornered, but I really just want to help…"

"I know." He squeezed her hand. "I should've asked for help anyway… Maybe I needed you to push me."

"Then it worked out in this instance, but…" She poked his chest playfully. "Don't feel like you can't say your peace… If you feel I'm being pushy, speak up… Sometimes I need to hear it!" She lifted a shoulder. "I've been told my ego overshadows my poor understanding of social etiquette."

He laughed. "All right."

Turning back around, she started walking again. He could feel her thumb rubbing against his and she reached over with her other hand to rub it up and down his forearm like she was still trying to warm him up.

"Do you live nearby?" she wondered, peering around the snowy, deserted streets.

He joined her, trying to figure out where he'd wandered to. "Uh… I _think _so…"

She arched a brow at him in amusement.

He shrugged and then turned to look at her earnestly, "Wanna help me find my way home?"

Smiling brightly, she said, "I would _love _to!"

As they walked up and down the streets, she swung their joined hands between them. He twirled her around just to hear her laugh and see her smile and they skidded across icy patches together, holding on to each other so they wouldn't fall, before finally they stumbled upon the house his parents were renting.

Still chuckling, he stared down at her smiling face. "You, uh, wanna come in?" He raised a brow. "I gotta make dinner for Stevie and Stacey… One more can't hurt."

She nodded, ducking her head a little. "That would be lovely."

Over dinner, singing, dancing, and watching her help his brother and sister with their homework, Sam knew he'd just found the girl he wanted to spend a lot more than every Wednesday with. And when she kissed him goodbye before she went home, he knew she felt the same way.

Who knew asking for help would turn into something so awesome?

[**End.**]


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